Partners
by khaki knight
Summary: Dawn of Sorrow: Julius feels the years gaining on him, and feels something else, too. Julius x Yoko--wait, what?
1. The Silent Forest

_**PARTNERS**_

_A side story set during __**Dawn of Sorrow**__, in the __**Castlevania**__ universe, as authored by khaki knight._

_Disclaimer: __**Castlevania: Dawn of Sorrow **__and characters, related ideas, etc. are the legal property of __**Konami**__. Characters, etc. are only borrowed for what I hope will be entertainment purposes. Unless you count it as free advertising for the series, this work is strictly nonprofit – scout's honor! This disclaimer applies to the entire work. Insert more legal jargon here if it will keep me from facing a lawsuit. What is a man? A miserable little pile of secrets! But enough talk – have at you!_

**CV--CV--CV**

_Soma? Growing old is a horrible thing._

As I struggle across a snowy bridge, those words come back to haunt me. Soma didn't really appear to understand what I had tried to tell him on the cusp of that damnable darkness; oh, sure, he tried to humor an old man like me, but he just isn't really capable of understanding at his age.

As my boot slips and I start to fall from the rope bridge—both my hands locked in a death grip on the rope rail—I reflect that, someday, he'll see what I mean.

Back to the crisis at hand, though; my left leg is officially dangling over an icy crevasse in an otherwise deserted village high in the European mountains. What a way for the last of the Belmonts to die—no last glorious battle with Dracula, instead slipped off an icy bridge to his death.

After a moment, with a grunt and my arms screaming the entire way, I managed to drag the rest of me back onto the bridge. It shakes ominously in the wind, creaking like a... well, actually, creaking like an old man. I smirk as I struggle back to my feet. This bridge and I? I think we've come to terms.

Even so, I'm relieved the second my boots hit solid land again.

As I crunch along a snow and gravel strewn path, I shake my head. Of course I'm not the last Belmont, I chide myself. It just feels that way sometimes. But fate (God?) has a funny way of keeping a few of us around, just in case. Hell, the family _disappeared _for a few decades and things still worked out, didn't they?

I hunch my shoulders as I walk along.

But if they're out there, I don't know where they are—and I can't tell if that's a symptom of my decades long amnesia or if I _am_ the last. Either way, all know for sure is that all I've got left is the whip... I glance down at the coiled bundle on my right hip. Its presence is familiar and comforting, even in the chill air. All that time as J, I felt as if a part of me was missing. I realize now that—for good or ill—it was the Vampire Killer whose absence I was feeling.

(But who would carry the Vampire Killer after me? The question lingers for too long in the back of my mind.)

My thoughts are getting too far a field, I decide with a snort.

My solitary hike continues. Eventually I come to a stop on a rise, just under a busted lamppost. Off to my right an abandoned car sags silently under the snow. I've reached the outskirts of the village proper, and it's just as deserted as the rest of the area. I let out a long sigh, before plunging on down the slope.

Amazing what foul monsters summoned from the deepest reaches of the underworld can do to chase off the locals.

Or, at least, I'm hoping that's what happened. I'd hate to think that Fortner was the kind of mad cultist who would willingly sacrifice her own followers. Then again, if you're gullible enough to follow a sorceress into an isolated mountain commune—an isolated mountain commune sitting in the shadow of a massive gothic castle—maybe you deserve what you get.

Listen to me. I'm getting heartless in my old age.

Not like Soma. Soma probably would have volunteered to come gallivanting here to save the _cultists_, if someone had asked him. (Well, if Hakuba girlhad asked him, at any rate.) His heart hasn't completely iced over yet—unlike some people I could name.

Just another thing he'll learn, in time.

As I finally step off the slope, into a broad double wide lane cut through another swath of forest, the hairs on the back of my neck are suddenly standing on end. My eyes narrow; I'm being stalked...

Remaining still, I make a slow show of digging through the small pack belted at my hip, even as I discreetly scan the area. It looks like a pack of wargs. Normally the giant wolves wouldn't be much of a problem, but then again...

But then again I normally wouldn't be about to fall ... I'm exaggerating a bit—but cracking the cult's barrier _did _take a lot out of me. The massive burst of mystic energy has left all my muscles feeling oddly rubbery, and the hike from the castle back to the village—nearly falling from a bridge notwithstanding—has left me more winded than I should be.

Yes, growing old is a terrible thing, especially for a Belmont.

As I casually uncoil the Vampire Killer, I feel it almost pulse in my hand. A bit of encouragement for the old man? She shouldn't have, I think, a tiny smile stealing onto my face. Yeah, she and I are a pair of old warhorses now. Way past our prime. Probably be put out to pasture if it weren't for nutjobs like the With Lighters running around.

_Focus now_, _Julius_, I chide myself. _They'll_ _be coming for you._

The wargs must sense that I'm on to them, as they drop all pretense of silent stalking and instead approach from out of the woodwork. They warily pace around me, having me easily encircled. Looks like they expect me to be easy prey... And with numbers favoring them four to one, they might have a point.

The lead warg suddenly bares his fangs and snarls. That's it—the attack's on.

"Hah!" I shout, grabbing a vial of holy water from my pouch, and flinging it into the face of the wolf. It snarls, pawing and trying to back away from holy flames bursting across its snout.

Even as the vial was shattering, I was twisted to my side, the whip lashing out to the wolf on my right. The force of the blow shatters the wolf's right foreleg; it cried out before limping back, whimpering all the while.

But I still wasn't done. My free hand flies down to the razor boomerang at my hip, and throw it blindly behind me as I dash through the opening between the two wounded wolves.

Not bad, I'm forced to admit, as I skid to a halt and turn to survey my work. Yes, my boomerang had missed the two uninjured wolves entirely, and was at the moment buried into the truck of a tree, _and _those two same wolves were hot on my heels... But I was still breathing, and that was something of a miracle in itself.

With a grunt, I lash the Vampire Killer out again. Almost as if reading my mind, the tip wraps around the forward leg of the warg on the left. With another grunt, I yank the whip back savagely. The warg crashes to the ground, tumbling to a stop at my feet. My eyes narrow, and I smash the heel of my boot down into the warg's skull.

All this seems to have cowed the other warg, and he starts to back off from the carcass of his pack mate... until the alpha male—the fur about his muzzle singed but otherwise in good shape—makes his presence known again. He growls, and his eyes dart between me and the dead body of warg at my feet.

A snarl to the hesitating warg stiffens that one's resolve. Unfortunately for the alpha male, the warg whose leg I had broken earlier had already fled. Two on one, I think. Now we're getting somewhere approximating fair.

Both wargs tense when I start to run at them, and I like to imagine that the look they exchanged as I did was one of confusion and fear. They finally pounce, but not before I drop into a slide. As the wolves go sailing over my head, I skid to a stop, leaping back up to my feet and lunging for my boomerang lodged in a tree.

My hand clasps around the boomerang's haft just as the wargs behind me realize they've been duped and turn back to face me. Judging by their expressions, they're not particularly thrilled with me.

No time for hesitation. I yank the cross from the tree, hurling it at the warg on the right. This time my aim is true, and the boomerang cleaves into the warg's left shoulder. It slumps to the ground, not quite dead, its head turned awkwardly as it tries to snap and pull at the cross lodged in its side with its jaws. Each of its attempts grow weaker and weaker.

The alpha male, however, doesn't falter for a second, continuing its charge. I strike out with the Vampire Killer. The tip slams down, just missing as the alpha male warg skids to a halt. Furious now, the warg drops his jaw open, and then next thing I know, I'm dodging a gout of flame. Despite my best efforts, my left sleeve catches on fire.

Dammit.

I waste precious seconds trying to put out the flames, as the warg advances. He pounces, and the best I can manage is an awkward half-pirouette, half fall to my right. We narrowly miss one another, and I land with a muffled thud on the snowy ground. From my prone position on the ground I strike out with the Vampire Killer again. Although the blow is glancing, the whip's powerful enchantments still manage to sear through the warg's rear leg.

The warg is limping as he comes about to face me, ready to pounce again. But by now I've regained my feet, and I stand ready and waiting. If the warg were thinking clearer, it may have backed off and reassessed his plan of attack. But the fury at being wounded—the fury at losing his entire pack to what he thought was going to be easy prey—makes it reckless and he pounces.

This time not even his flame breath is enough to slow me. All it does is ensure that his corpse is still smoldering as it slides to a stop behind me. After a moment, I coil the Vampire Killer back up, and secure it back at my hip. It's over. For now at least.

I crouch down near one of the carcasses to retrieve my boomerang. _Not bad, Julius, _I think, as I survey my work. I stand, scanning the rest of the forest, the boomerang in hand. _Not bad at all_.

That triumphal feeling only lasts for approximately five more seconds, right until another warg springs from the woods behind me and crashes into my back. Its fangs easily tear through my coat and into my right shoulder.

Damn... There were_ five_ wargs. That was stupid, Julius. You're getting sloppy, old man.

The warg and I tumble down a slope. Bushes and rocks proverbially clawed at my face and arms on the way down, even as the warg _actually _clawed at me, digging its teeth in further into my shoulder. I've barely still got a grip on the boomerang, while my free hand scratches desperately at the warg's muzzle.

As we slide to a stop at the base of the slope, the warg flips me by the shoulder onto my back. Apparently it wants the satisfaction of seeing my face as it delivers the killing blow. This is yet another difference—besides the obvious size and fire breath, of course—between a warg and a normal wolf, as a wolf would simply go for the practical, if underhanded, kill from behind. No, that's hellspawn for you: have to see the fear in your prey's eyes before you kill it.

But there's no fear in my eyes, only determination: the warg's vanity is also the only opportunity I've got to save myself. In the seconds before it can go for my neck, I grab up the razor cross from my (now nearly useless) right hand, and stab it home in the warg's right eye. The warg immediately starts to howl, but I pull free the cross and stab down again, and again, and again, until the damn thing finally just _dies_.

I drop back against the ground again, the now dead weight of the warg pinning my legs and the bloody cross dangling from the left hand. I can feel cold leeching into me; judging from the wound, I'm losing a lot of blood. I awkwardly crane my head around. Behind me, I can just make out the village proper.

I really should try and shove that warg off of me... but... I'm starting to feel incredibly sleepy.

What a way for the last of the Belmonts to die—no last glorious battle with Dracula, instead wounded by a pack of wargs and bled to death...

Bled to death. The irony of a _vampire hunter_ bleeding to deathis hard to escape, even as my mind descends into a white haze...

**CV--CV--CV**

_Not dead yet_, I think, as my eyes pop open and I stare up at a plain wooden ceiling.

"No. Not yet, at any rate," someone suddenly says, and I realize that I must have spoken aloud. Despite the groaning in all my muscles, I sit up, only to see Yoko staring at me from a small writing desk. She has my jacket in one hand, and a sewing needle in the other.

Ah, Yoko's 'shop.' I guess I must have been closer than I thought I was.

"Although at the rate _you're _going, I have to wonder sometimes," she adds. The lamp on the table makes it hard for me to read her expression.

A twinge of pain shoots through my shoulder and chest. I look down to find my shirt missing, and most of my wounds carefully bound in bandages. I shoot Yoko a questioning look. "You're welcome, by the way," she continues.

"Thank you," I offer automatically, if a bit too late.

This at least elicits a self-satisfied smirk from Yoko, before her mouth quirks downward into a frown. "Apparently patching you and your clothes up is all I'm good for," she adds icily, even as goes back to work on my jacket.

Apparently she's still mad.

(That's what I get for trying to keep her safe—cold shoulders and sharp words.)

I don't immediately respond, with the vague hope that if I just don't say _anything_, she'll consider it a lesson learned and drop the issue. For once it works, and with annoyed toss of her hair she moves on. "What I don't understand is why you apparently had so much trouble with a pack of _wargs_," she continues, before biting off the thread and beginning a new stitch. "I'm pretty sure Soma took down three of those things with a pocket knife."

Ah, so she hasn't heard yet. Well, of course she hasn't. The only other people who _have _are probably still slogging through whatever was at the bottom of that accursed cultist mine.

"I'm sure he did," I answer conversationally, "but..." I explain about the Celia's dark barrier. As I relate the tale, the work on my jacket slowly slows to a stop. Her expression seems regretful: she probably wouldn't have made that crack if she had known I had blown nearly all my mystical energy immediately before being beset by those wargs.

"Do... do you think it will come back?" Yoko asks after a minute.

"That's... a good question," I answer quietly. When I don't elaborate any further, she nods quietly, still looking stricken.

The only other time I had ever felt anything like this was last year: the Vampire Killer weakened after Soma's final battle in Dracula's castle. But the whip recovered, eventually.

(Not completely however. But I always imagined the reason for that being that with the death of Dracula—the King of Vampires, Scourge of Man, and Dark Lord Incarnate—evil in the world just never seemed quite as... _serious_, and the Vampire Killer just felt _unmotivated_, more or less. But enough of the whip's holy power still remained to make any child of the night who ran across it regret it immediately.)

But the Vampire Killer was ageless, a holy artifact the Belmonts guarded with their lives. _I_, on the other hand, was just one of those Belmonts, old and worn out.

I feel Yoko's eyes on me again, and I am suddenly very self-conscious of the fact that I'm not wearing a shirt.

"Ergh," I grunt, whipping off the bed covers and standing. My shirt and vest—both already mended—sit on a chair just to my right. I grab them up, draping the shirt hastily over my shoulders. "I need to be on my way," I declare, grabbing the Vampire Killer from the same chair.

"Julius!" Yoko chides in concern, dropping my jacket to the desk and standing in an instant. She looks furious, and yet at the same time, adorable—she has this way of puffing out her cheeks when she's really angry and—

_Julius_, I chide myself.

"Sit back down this _instant_," Yoko continues. "You're in absolutely no condition to go _anywhere_!"

"Soma and Arikado might need _help_," I counter gruffly. "We have no idea what's waiting for them at the bottom of that mine."

Yoko's expression turns flinty. "If they need us, they'll come and _get_ us. Besides, do you think you can even _get there _in your condition?" she presses.

This touches a sore nerve. "I have to_ try_," I growl, taking a few wobbling steps.

"Julius," she starts darkly, storming over to me, "I _am not_ letting you go out there in your state. You can barely stand!" She folds her arms defiantly, leaning in towards my face. "You. Need. To. _Rest_," she proclaims.

(This—this entire fiasco with the cult—is the first time since my first few days with the church that Yoko and I had both been assigned to the same mission. There was a reason I resisted having a partner.)

My eyes narrow. It's obvious she's not backing down. "Three hours," I finally offer.

Bargaining—I hate to have to sink to that level, but it's becoming apparent that's the only way I'm going to make any progress with her.

Her expression turns considering. "_Four _hours," she counters.

My lips flatten to a grim line. "Three and a half."

The two of us glare at one another for a long moment; finally, she sniffs. "_Fine_," she relents, "three and a half hours."

"Fine," I agree.

"_Fine_," she repeats.

And then there's an awkward pause; our faces are only inches apart. For a half second, her eyes flick back down to my chest, and I remember I never actually buttoned my shirt. Incredibly, I feel my cheeks warming.

(How long has it been since I've felt _embarrassed_ like this...?)

I turn away sharply, my fingers quickly flying to my shirt's buttons. "Well, uh, I guess I should get to sleep, then."

Then I notice a blush on _her _face; she looks off to one side. "Uh, right, yes. I'll..." for a second she looks lost, before her eyes alight back on her desk and my half repaired jacket. She picks it up, killing the lamp as she does. "I'll... I'll be out in the shop..." she says. "If you need anything," she hastily adds.

She quickly hurries to the door separating the bedroom from the shop proper. "G-good night," she says a little too quickly, before shutting the door behind her.

Once she's gone, I slump back down to the bed, my gaze settling on the floor. "Well... that hasn't gone away..."

(There was a reason I resisted having _her_ as my partner.)

**CV--CV--CV**

The red headed woman stares at me sadly. I feel as if I know her, even if I've never seen her before. "You're interested in her," she says. It's not a question.

Who—Yoko? Attracted to her? At my age? Preposterous. Out of the question. Ridiculous.

The strange woman shifts, looking away from me even as she adjusts the wool shawl around her shoulders. She looks very sad. "You're going to have to let go of the past at some point."

My past... I can't even remember most of my past. How could it be chaining me down?

At this the woman meets my gaze directly, and smiles sadly. "That's exactly what I mean." She looks up suddenly, as if she had just heard something. "You should wake up now."

What?

"Julius, wake up. Something's wrong."

I realize that someone is shaking my shoulder—quite energetically. Both my eyes snap open, and I see Yoko staring down at me. She looks anxious.

I sit up, blearily blinking away the last residues of sleep. "How long was I out?" I ask immediately.

"An hour. Maybe an hour and a half," she answers quickly. When I fix her with an odd look, she tosses her hair in an irritated manner. "And no, I _didn't _change my mind, but something's... wrong."

I frown. "Perhaps you had better show me, then."

Yoko wordlessly leads me from the bedroom, through the shop's front room, and out into the street. She nods towards the castle. "There."

My expression hardens. There seems to be a massive concentration of energy coming from the castle above us. I can even see a faint distortion in the air_ around _the castle—it's strongest from the tower on the far side. "Then they've made it all the way down..." I say quietly.

"Is it those cultists?" she asks.

I nod. "Apparently With Light isn't going down without a fight." Indeed, even so far out in the village, the two of us could still feel the waves of foul energy buffeting us.

She leans over to me, a wicked grin on her face. "Stillwant to go gallivanting down into _that_?"

Her tone is light—she means it as a joke. Even so... Even so, I'm forced to admit I probably wouldn't last more than a few minutes down in that hellhole. The knowledge feels heavy on me. "Just chalk it up to an old man's folly," I finally offer, sounding defeated.

At this offhand comment, her expression turns inscrutable, and she turns to walk back inside. After another long, lingering look at the castle, I turn to follow her back in.

I only get a few steps in before Yoko thrusts a bundle at me. "Here," she says.

I frown and unroll the bundle, only to recognize it as my trusty overcoat. I inspect the shoulder—it looks as if Yoko replaced the entire leather panel across the back... and if I wasn't mistaken, had used some of her magic to make the subsequent new stitching and patches blend in completely. Really, it looked better than new. I nod to her. "Thanks."

I slip the jacket back on. It even fits the same. Really, she's a hell of a girl.

(I frown. Girl. Woman. ...Whatever.)

There's a padded chair near the shop's front window, and Yoko throws herself into it. After a moment, her gaze wanders back over to me. "Do you think they can pull it off?" she asks. "It feels..." she frowns, turning her gaze back out the window. "It feels pretty bad down there."

I follow her gaze back up to the castle. She's right—it almost feels like there's two Somas, only one feels... _wrong_. Corrupted somehow, warped. And growing in power. "I'm sure they'll be fine."

When I don't elaborate any further, she twists back around and fixes me with a strange look. "It really does bother you that you couldn't go with them." Again, not a question.

"I'm a Belmont," I answer automatically.

My answer only seems to agitate her, and she shifts uncomfortably. "You know, you don't have to bear the grief _alone_ all the time just because you're a Belmont," she says quietly. "People _do _support each other from time to time," she... I guess 'lectures' is the best word.

The speech sounds familiar; it echoes what she told me when she recruited me for the church.

(It was snowing in Tokyo that day. If I hadn't run into her, I'd probably be quite comfortable in retirement.

...That's a lie. I would have driven myself mad. I could never stand idle hands.)

When I don't respond, she looks up; her expression is all scrunched up. "Julius, I just wish you'd—"

That's when I notice the car flying through the air towards the front of the shop. "Get down!" I shout, diving towards her.

"What are you—" she begins, trying to turn back to the window even as I tackle her to the ground. The car slams through the window, rolling side over side until it slams against the back wall of the shop.

Dusting debris from my jacket, I quickly pop back up on one knee, boomerang instantly in hand. Just beyond the new gaping hole in the front of the shop I spot a dark haired, vaguely human shaped creature shuffling away. The beast spares only a single glance back over the shoulder, snarling, before shambling on down the village's lane.

Next to me, Yoko rolls back onto her knees, a precautionary fireball already flickering above her fingertips. "What the hell was that?" she asks breathlessly.

"Yeti, I think," I answer, still peering into the darkness. "A bit more aggressive than normal it seems."

Yoko gives me a confused look, before following my gaze back up to the castle. "Do you think Soma's showdown with the cult is...?"

In the darkness beyond the shop, I can already see countless shapes shifting and moving—all very agitated. "The natives are getting a little restless." If I had been thinking, I would have considered the possibility the instant the distortion appeared around the castle.

I climb back to my feet. The negative waves coming from the castle are getting stronger. Whatever Soma and Arikado are battling down there... The fight seemed to be rising to a crescendo.

In other words, the castle and its local environs—including the village—are quickly becoming a bad place to be. "We should consider leaving before anything else—" I begin, only to break off.

The floor boards beneath us creak ominously. Yoko and I exchange glances, before we both glance down. The creak gives way to the sound of cracking and splintering wood. And then the floor falls away.

**END PART I**


	2. Castle's Basement

The first thing I'm aware of is the ringing in my ears. Groaning I sit up, shoving a few shattered planks of wood off me. I'm surrounded by inky blackness; glancing up, I can distantly see snow wafting in through the wrecked front of the shop... but it's quite a distance up.

I grunt, trying to stand. "Yoko," I call. "Yoko!" For a half second, I fight blindly rising panic.

"H-here..." she finally calls weakly in the dark. After a second, another fireball flickers to life over her fingertips.

As I scramble to her, Yoko sits up. Aside from a few cuts and bruises, she looks all right—if a little dazed. She immediately glances up. "What happened? Did the floor collapse?"

I nod grimly. "The car must have damaged the foundation.. Weakened something." I glance around our surroundings. "It looks like we've fallen quite a ways..." My eyes narrow; the stonework and exposed pipes look decidedly familiar.

"I never did think this place was architecturally sound..." Yoko mutters as I help her to her feet. "Have you seen a few of their taller buildings? Like they just stacked houses on top of one another, then ran some rope bridges between them."

"I suppose cultists aren't too keen on safety regulations," I deadpan.

Yoko looks at me sharply, the hint of confusion on her face. Honestly, I'm as surprised as she is to hear a joke on my lips. I'm just... relieved that she wasn't hurt.

She casts another glance up to the remains of the shop. "Do you think you could manage to leap up there?" she asks.

"If I were a hundred percent, maybe. But now..." I trail off, staring up at the drifting snow far above us. I feel that same damnable uselessness.

I shake myself, as if trying to dislodge any self-pity before it can take root. "Yoko, can you send a fireball that way?" I ask, gesturing off to the darkness to the right. She nods wordlessly; soon, a fireball lazily drifts in the direction.

The tiny fireball reveals more exposed pipes and stonework, a few odd looking chemical stains, and... an iron-wrought door. I nod to myself. "That's what I thought. It looks like we've fallen down into one of the lower levels of the castle. Meaning our only real way out is..."

"Going _into _the castle to get out of it?" she asks, guessing my train of thought. Her expression is skeptical. At my nod, she sighs, crouching and beginning to pick through the debris surrounding us. "Never a dull moment with you, Julius. Hold on, let me see if I can scavenge _something _approximating a weapon..."

I stir at her statement, but don't... quitesay anything.

After a few moments of searching she laughs, sounding pleased. "Ha!" When I shoot her an inquiring look, she stands, holding a blackened metal rod in front of her. "It looks like all my other gear is either missing or broken... But I did manage to find Ole Bess, at least," she says, sounding pleased.

On closer inspection that metal rod turns out to be a wicked looking iron mace. She hefts it with surprising ease, then looks at me expectantly. "Well then, shall we?" she asks.

"Yoko... the demons inside the castle are... Perhaps you should..." I trail off, frustrated as I try to say what I want to say without really saying it.

It fails almost instantly; Yoko sees where I'm coming from a mile off. "You still don't you trust me to fight?" she asks, cutting right to the point. Her tone is guarded, but... she's obviously offended. _Hurt._

I glance back at her sharply. Is that how she saw it? That I didn't _trust _her? I look away, shoving one hand into my jacket's pocket. "I was trying to protect you," I explain quietly.

She puffs out her cheeks again before letting out an aggravated huff, stirring her hair. "Julius, I've worked for the church for _years_ doing this sort of thing," she chastises. "I can—and in one instance literally _had to_—take down a flame demon withone hand tied behind my back."

(She told me that story once: as the mad summoner behind that whole mess quickly found out, you really shouldn't tie only _one _of a witch's hands and assume you still have the upper hand.)

She looks away and sighs, sounding weary beyond her years. "I just wish you'd have a little faith in me," she says in a quiet voice.

For a long moment, I'm speechless. "I'm... sorry," I manage after a minute. "I didn't realize you felt that way."

She folds her arms, her expression distant. "It's fine," she says stiffly. "Forget I said anything," she adds, before marching towards the door.

I take two long strides, just managing to catch her wrist. "Yoko," I start firmly. She doesn't turn at first. "Yoko, please," I appeal.

She glances up to the ceiling (asking for a bit of divine patience?) before turning back to face me, _finally _meeting my gaze. I nod to her. "Yoko, I _do _trust you."

We lock gazes for a few moments more until—apparently satisfied with my sincerity—she nods back slowly. "And me in you," she says softly.

**CV--CV--CV**

Lash right, kneel, holy water to the left, jump, kick down. A skeleton clatters to dust to my right while an axe armor shatters apart to my left. Take the armor's axe, fling it forward, dash to the right, whip forward. The axe cleaves a zombie in half, and the whip sends another two to join it.

Any lingering doubt I have about my combat prowess after my run in with the wargs seems to have been unfounded; my body remembers the dance of battle almost effortlessly.

_Almost_. I drop to one knee, having landed awkwardly on the shattered remnants of the axe armor. Another rears up almost as if out of nowhere, its axe held high as if to cleave me in twain... Its chest unceremoniously bursts out in a gout of flame. It slumps to its knees, a sickly looking smoke rising from the hole. As it collapses to pieces, I glance up to see Yoko standing triumphantly above me, one fist still outstretched.

"Told you," she says simply, beaming.

My expression remains passive, as I hurl my boomerang towards her. It whistles past the left side of her head, just tousling her hair. She freezes, before quickly turning to look behind her. A werewolf weakly clutches at the cross embedded in his chest before collapsing just behind her.

As I bend to retrieve my boomerang, she folds her arms. "Call it even?" she asks after a moment. She doesn't sound terribly disturbed by the ordeal—if anything, she sounds faintly bemused.

And so—despite my best effort—a small smile steals onto my face. Yoko chooses not to comment. Even so, it's obvious by her expression that's quietly pleased at putting that smile there.

(Heartless, in my old age...)

We exchange a nod and immediately start to dash off, our heavy footfalls echoing along the stone corridor. We're making good time, all told. Though the dark denizens of the castle seem to be whipped into frenzy, their numbers are in fact much thinner than I had feared.

And Yoko... The axe armor wasn't the first time that she had saved me; then again, the werewolf wasn't the first time I had saved _her_. I'm grudgingly forced to admit that neither one of us could have made it on our own.

(So much for the big bad lone Belmont.)

My pace slows, as we approach the end of the corridor. An open iron door leads into a winding staircase. I glance towards the ceiling, picturing the castle layout in my mind's eye. "This staircase should be our ticket out of here," I say quietly, as I lead the way through the door. Two step in, however, and I freeze, my gaze slowly rising to the ceiling. My eyes narrow

"Julius?" Yoko, still following behind me, asks. "What're you—"

"Yoko, I need you to stay very still, and very quiet..." I whisper fiercely.

Yoko, of course, ignores me. "I don't know what has you so worked up, but—" she sharply sucks in a breath as she too takes a look up the stairwell.

There, several floors above us, an entire—Legion? Choir? Swarm? Host? At any rate, a _goddamn lot _of malachi seem to be quietly resting, wings tucked around them. The only saving grace is that their sickly yellow-red eyes are all closed.

And for once I don't feel too bad, because even in my heyday, attacking that many malachi head on would have been a losing proposition. "Back out... nice and easy," I instruct Yoko, taking several giant steps back myself.

All our stealthiness turns out to be for naught, however, as the iron door creaks hideously as I try to shut it. In seconds, the first of the malachi become aware of our presence. And they are not happy.

"Dammit," I curse, struggling to manhandle the door shut. It clangs closed—finally. I take a step back, only to realize there's no way to lock the door behind us. "There's no latch...!" I declare, with a sinking feeling.

"Julius, move!" Yoko commands.

I have only a second to duck out of the way, as flames flicker to life in her hands. I watch silently as she crudely solders the iron door shut with her fire magick. The two of us stand there for a long moment, listening to the hissing of the metal as it cools. "Do you think that will hold them?" she asks suddenly.

As a giant fist manages to nearly cleave the door in half, the answer to that question becomes clear beyond any shadow of doubt: _NO. _Their terrible scream—I've heard it crudely described as a squid caught in a blender—suddenly echoes down the corridor.

The assault on the weakened door stops for a moment, and we both watch in horror as one of those yellow-red eyes presses up against the door's new peep hole. Its pupil scans the corridor we're in wildly; when it settles on us, the pupil contracts and the howl starts up again.

Yoko has dropped into a combat stance, but her expression is grim—I don't think she likes our chances any more than I do. "Is there another way up?" she asks quickly.

I spare the clawing monstrosities only a cursory glance before I answer. "I guess we're going to have to find out," I answer grimly, before hurling a vial of holy water at the eye in the door way.

At the malachi's terrible howl, Yoko's eyes narrow. "I think you just made him mad," she says dryly.

"Time to go," I answer back, grabbing Yoko's hand and turning back the other direction down the corridor.

"Wait, wait, they're almost through!" Yoko says after a moment, resisting.

"Then we should keep moving..." I grimly counter, even though I slow to a stop as I lose my grip on Yoko's hand. At the far end of the corridor, the first of the malachi had already clawed halfway through the door.

Yoko doesn't respond, clearly concentrating. An agonizing few seconds later, balls of electricity leap from her fingertips and crackle down the hall. The bolts slam into the door. With all the voltage, the malachi fries almost instantly, it's squid-like tentacles writhing like the snakes on a medusa's head.

The malachi's dead body slumps, smoking, blocking the very hole it had created and serving to slow the others. I nod in approval. "Nicely done," I say quietly.

She beams again, before grabbing my hand again and dragging me down the corridor. "Well, it's only nicely done if we manage to actually get away from them in the end," she corrects.

And she has a point, as the odds of our survival seem to shrink by the moment. As we careen back into the previous corridor, we discover that it too had been overrun, the far side wall to wall packed with zombies, with what looked like more spilling even into the hallway beyond.

"Julius?" Yoko asks. Her mace is held at the ready and there's already a flame over her free hand, but she looks uncertain.

I hesitate a second before answering. The two of us could easily mow through the zombies, but with their numbers it's doubtful if we could manage to get through _all _of them_ and_ into the next corridor before the still-raging malachi manage to catch up. As if to underscore our predicament, the call of the malachi wafts gently to our ears—they're drawing closer.

There's a grating on the wall, blocking off a drain pipe just big enough to slip through if we crouch. As much as I detest sewers... "When you're stuck between a rock and a hard place..." I mutter. Louder, "Yoko, seal the door. I've got an idea."

Her gaze flicks between me and the grating that I've become so very interested in, her expression blanching. "Glad I decided to wear waterproof boots today..." Her glaze turns back to the zombies slowly but surely advancing on us, even as she blocks the doorway. "What about the zombies?" she asks.

I look up from where I'm wrestling with the ancient grating. "The zombies?" I with draw another vial of holy water (grimly noting that its one of the last in my pack) before flinging it at the feet of the nearest zombie. The holy flames then cleave through the nearest formation, (somewhat) thinning out the horde. "Don't worry about the zombies," I finish, as I finally wrench the grating from the pipe.

Yoko and I squeeze in just as the first of the malachi rams full force into the only recently welded shut door. As we continue to do a crude impression of sewer rats, the demons consider us from behind. It becomes apparent that the malachi are too large to squeeze into the pipes themselves.

Behind me, Yoko stops, turning back to consider the demons. "That'll teach them," Yoko declares triumphantly, even as she begins to chant the aria for another fire spell. She stops, however, when one of the _malachi _begins to cast a spell. "Or not..." she mutters, turning and urging me on down the pipe.

The other side of the drain is, of course, _also _covered in a grating. Ramming it with my good shoulder seems to have little effect on it.

"Julius," Yoko says, her tone even if strained as she watches the malachi on the far end continue its spell.

"I know," I reply calmly, even as I hurl my left shoulder again into the metal. The metal groans, but refuses to budge.

"_Julius_!" Yoko repeats frantically, as the malachi finally finishes its spell.

"_I know_!" I roar, as I lean back and slam my boot into the grating. It breaks free with an audible 'pop' (comically loud, given the situation) before clanging to the stone floor.

Yoko and I then scramble out of the drain, dropping and hugging that same stone floor even as a gout of demonic fire belches just inches above our heads.

As the fire burns out to a greasy smoke, Yoko and I exchange looks... before we both break into quiet laughter. Somehow, even blundering into a new malachi nest and nearly being killed can become strangely funny in hindsight.

**END PART II**


	3. Valley's Edge

We had found ourselves on the ground floor of another stairwell; at the top we were startled to find a new exit through the blown out bottom of a fountain in the village—Soma's handiwork, no doubt.

The village is just as quiet as I remember it which, given the agitated state of the castle halls below, makes it even more disconcerting. The sky is lightening ever so slightly—or at least what I can see of it through thick snow clouds. Dawn is still an hour or two off, however...

I glance back towards the castle. It seems the battle still rages in its depths.

Yoko notices my grim look.

"Try and lighten up, hmm?" she begins, lightly punching my arm before taking a few steps down the village lane. "We're in the home-stretch, right?" she asks, spreading her arms.

And then I watch in alarm as a manticore pounces from a building's low-lying roof, landing in the snow behind her with a muffled thump.

"Yoko!" I shout, one hand involuntarily reaching out...

She half-turns, just in time to see the manticore tensing to strike. As the beast's scorpion-like tail begins to whip down, Yoko launches herself into an impressive back roll with surprising speed. Relief at her narrow escape, however, gives way to panic and rage as the manticore simply settles back, unearthly flames already gathering in its mouth...

Without thinking—and with an angry shout—I hurl my boomerang at the beast. The cross buries itself into the manticore's shoulder. "Over here!" I bellow, waving my arms to get its attention. "Come on!" Snarling in pain—and, more importantly, having completely forgotten Yoko—the manticore shakes and turns its massive body towards me, then charges.

I end up making an awkward tumble-roll to right (cringing at a brief flash of pain in the shoulder) as the manticore careens past me. From one knee, I lash the Vampire Killer out. It coils around the manticore's left fore leg. Jerking the whip back sharply, the manticore tumbles; before it can even think of trying to recover, I'm on it, the Vampire Killer whipping out again and again...

When it's done and I've retrieved the boomerang, I turn back to see Yoko watching me with an odd expression on her face... and electricity crackling over her fingertips. Apparently, she had been preparing to take care of the manticore herself before I stepped in. "Julius..." she begins slowly... almost _tenderly_, before shaking herself, as if to clear her head. "Thank you," she says quietly as she stands, dusting snow from her clothes.

I shake my head, suddenly uncertain and unwilling to meet her gaze. "I know that you would have done the same for—" I'm interrupted by something heavy slamming into my side. It sends me skidding through the snow, before I roll to a stop resting just next to another building.

Dazed, my vision seems to double for a moment. The sudden sharp sting that shoots through my right shoulder tells me which side took the worst of the blow. My gaze wobbles back to where I had been standing a moment before; a snarling werewolf had apparently cannon-balled me from a back alley.

Fangs bared, it slowly starts to advance on me.

(What a way for the last of the Belmonts to die—in this same _damnable _village after doing so much to escape...)

"Euragh!" Yoko shouts, swinging her mace in a downward arc. Her face is a mask of anger.

The werewolf just barely manages to dodge, and Yoko's mace slams down to the snow covered cobblestones of the village's lane. Without hesitating a moment, Yoko's left hand shoots forward, palm out, and a blast of fire erupts from it. The werewolf reels back, screeching and patting at its eyes. Then Yoko—looking grim—brings her mace back up in a short, vicious upward swing, smashing into the werewolf's lower jaw.

The werewolf reels; Yoko, pressing her advantage, smoothly twists and delivers a roundhouse kick to the monster's chest. The werewolf is knocked back, dropping to the ground on its back. Yoko lunges forward and strikes out with the mace again, even as the werewolf rolls backward and drops to all fours. From its crouching position, it snarls at Yoko and tenses to pounce. Yoko begins a spell, but otherwise takes no other evasive action.

I want to shout, to warn her to move, but I hold my tongue seeing the oddly confidant lilting smile on her lips. The werewolf springs forward... even as Yoko finishes conjuring a trio of icy spears before her. The result is predictable. The impaled werewolf, surprise clear on its face, hangs in the air for a long moment before dropping dead to the ground.

After, Yoko lets out a small sigh, closing her eyes and starting to sag... until she remembers she's forgotten something. "Julius!" she calls, her eyes snapping open. She quickly rushes to my side, clumsily dropping her mace behind her. "Are you all right?" she asks, sinking to her knees next to me.

I grunt, as I sit up and lean against the wall. "Just rattled," I answer, before trying to get back to my feet. The shooting pain in my shoulder increases exponentially before I get far, however. I give out a strangled cry before I slump back against the wall. "Or... not..." I manage, my left hand flying to my shoulder.

"Your shoulder?" she asks, leaning forward. "Here, let me see," Yoko directs, gently-if-forcefully moving my hand away.

"Looks like the old man is falling apart again," I note humorlessly, leaning my head against the wall.

Her eyes flick to over to mine before she peels back my overcoat. "You're not that old," she admonishes quietly, gingerly examining my shoulder.

I shoot her a perplexed look, though I imagine much of the expression was lost in my grimace of pain.

"It doesn't look like the wound has reopened," she says after a moment, resettling my coat. She gives me a tight smile as she hitches my left arm around her neck. "Come on, Julius," Yoko grunts, trying to drag me back up to my feet, "fifty is supposed to be the new forty anyway, right?" she asks.

"It's the wonder of modern medical technology..." I mumble as I wobbly regain my feet.

(And longevity is supposed to be a Belmont trait, aside from Simon. They say that Trevor lived to be over seventy—a small miracle in those times—and Juste cracked the centennial mark...)

I lean heavily on her, and we take several staggering steps forward. Her hair smells like strawberries.

It's with a sudden start that I realize being this close to her brings me a peace of mind that I hadn't realized I had been missing—she cures an ache I hadn't even realized I was suffering from until it was suddenly gone.

An ache...

_That's enough of that._ Aloud, "I'm okay, now," I declare, as I gently try to disentangle my arm from around her neck.

Despite my assurances, her expression remains one of concern. "Are you sure?" she asks dubiously.

"I'm fine," I reiterate, taking several nearly normal steps on my own to prove it. "Just as long as I don't move the shoulder too much," I continue, cringing slightly as I smooth the jacket over my injury.

She remains unconvinced, even as she kneels to retrieve her mace. She mutters something about men and their stubborn pride, but I decide that it's probably best that I pretend I didn't hear her.

The two of us silently resume our trek down the lane.

**CV--CV--CV**

"We should probably collect Mr. Hammer as well," Yoko says conversationally, as we near the edge of town. "Soma'll be mad if we leave him behind."

"Mr. Hammer?" I ask.

Yoko nods, as she hefts her mace to rest on her shoulder. "He's my neighbor—across the street?" she asks, sounding distracted.

I think about it. It's pretty hard to miss, actually, considering it's the only other occupied building in immediate area. Tall guy. Bald. Tattered military jacket. Yoko continues, "He's also apparently Soma's supplier of military gear and black market occult oddities."

That does neatly explain where Soma gets all his potions. "We should hurry, then," I say.

And here the two of us go, gallivanting off to get the merchant. Gallivanting off to the rescue.

We arrive at Yoko's old street in short time. Yoko stares for a moment at the cratered remains of her shop, before shaking herself and turning away. "There's the shop," she says quietly, nodding to the building across the way.

The windows are boarded up, but a (crudely) hand-painted sign on the door declares the shop to be 'OPEN.' Yoko takes a few steps forward, but comes to a stop as she hears a growl emanating from inside the shop. "Did you hear that?" she asks, sharply.

Indeed, I did—my hand flies to the Vampire Killer's grip. "I think we should—" I begin, only to be cut off as the front of the shop explodes out. Yoko and I both immediately dive for cover.

Once the smoke has cleared, I notice the charred remains of... something, sprawled out on the snow in front of the shop. I clamber back to my feet. After a moment, a man calmly walks out of the new hole in the front wall of the shop, a large bulky tube on his shoulder—it looks like a rocket launcher. He breaks into a grin as he stares down at the dead monster. "Oh yeah! That worked better than I thought it would!"

_That's the 'merchant_,' I wonder silently to myself. _This giant hulk of a man..._

So much for the 'rescue.'

"Whoa, hey, Yoko!" the man calls, as he finally notices the two of us. "Over here!" he shouts, waving his free hand frantically, even though we're the only three people in the area.

"You came back for me," he says as Yoko and I walk over, sounding dreamy.

"Er... something like that, Mr. Hammer," Yoko answers, looking uncomfortable. Her glance drops down to the charred fiend on the ground. "What happened? What is that thing?"

Hammer grudgingly tears his gaze away from Yoko to consider his dead foe. "I don't know _what_ it is, but it had the longest damn tongue I've ever seen!" he exclaims, slinging the rocket launcher over his shoulders. "Came up right out of the floor boards, too."

I look back at the charred remains. "Cave troll, probably," I assess clinically.

Yoko's nose crinkles. "Ugh, I hate those things," she declares.

Hammer's eyes light up at this. "Well, just stick next to me, Yoko, I'll protect you!" he announces happily.

"Oh, uh," Yoko begins, that uncomfortable look returning, "thank you, uh, Hammer."

We manage to get moving without much more trouble after that, leaving the village behind and starting the climb up the forested valley wall. We don't make it very far, however, before the forest around us suddenly turns silent.

"Yoko?" I ask.

She nods grimly. "I sense it too. It's strong, whatever it is."

Hammer looks confused. "What are you two talking about?"

And suddenly there is the scream of dozens of crows, from trees all along both sides of the path. They suddenly converge into a vaguely humanoid shape on the path directly before us. Its raven dark cloak hangs loosely from its gaunt figure, and its grinning, skull-like visage stares at us, waiting.

A malphas? My eyes narrow. I'm not sure how or why there's a high level demon like a malphas hanging around at the edge of this town, but its obvious we're going to somehow have to go through it before we can finally escape this nightmare.

"Hold on, Yoko! I'll handle this!" Hammer suddenly asserts.

"No, wait!" I shout.

Hammer ignores me, and dashes a few steps forward, the rocket launcher flying back to his shoulder. He takes careful aim, and fires. His aim is true, and the projectile smashes into the malphas' face, erupting into flames. His victory celebration, however, is short lived; the malphas seems only vaguely annoyed by the attack.

Hammer withdraws back to us. "Well, I'm out of ideas," he declares, his weapon forgotten in his hands.

At my peak, fighting a malphas would be easy. At this point, however, I would seriously doubt my chances... that is, I would doubt my chances, if I didn't have someone I can trust at my side. I pull the Vampire Killer free, my eyes locked on the beast. "Yoko, you take right," I say quietly.

Yoko glances at me and smiles, before turning her attention back to the malphas. She nods, hefting her mace. "Got it." Before we begin, "Hammer, it would probably be best if you stay back for this, okay?" she calls over her shoulder.

Before he can respond, Yoko and I are both off, sprinting towards the malphas. Its solid black eyes flick back and forth between us, before finally deciding that I'm apparently the bigger threat. It raises one emaciated looking claw of a hand, and a burst of ravens composed of pure darkness flies out to meet me.

I skid to a stop, then shift to my right, letting the blast sail harmlessly past me. I then thrust forward, whipping out with the Vampire Killer. The whip slams into the malphas' arm; the demon cringes, before its powerful, jet-black wings begin to flap, and it speeds towards me.

It doesn't get far, however, before it finds itself shot out of the air by a barrage of icy missiles, courteously provided by Yoko. One of the giant shards of ice pierces its wing, and the malphas suddenly crashes down to the snowy earth. It struggles back up to all fours, before firing several burst of ravens out at Yoko.

As she's dodging, I rush the now kneeling malphas from behind. My intent is to drive my boomerang into its back like a dagger. And, indeed, I pounce on its back for that very purpose. However, the malphas recovers faster than I expect, and uses its one good wing to shove me off.

I land heavily on my back, and the malphas advances on me. It only manages to take a few steps, however, before Yoko proceeds to blast its exposed back with fire. It twists awkwardly to face her, just in time to watch as she speeds towards it and savagely delivers a savage blow to the upside of its head.

Yoko is about to follow up with another mace blow, but the malphas blindly fires off another mass of dark ravens which just manage to catch Yoko in the shoulder. Yoko twirls back and falls away, clutching her shoulder and trying desperately to prepare another spell as the malphas continues to fire blindly.

But not before I spring up and coil the Vampire Killer around the malphas' upper body. It screeches, and tries to break free, but I clamp down. Yoko sees what I'm doing, and hefts her mace again, before rushing in and swiping the legs out from under the malphas.

The malphas and I slam down to the ground, my body and the Vampire Killer pinning the beast to the ground. I then struggle with one hand to reach into my bag, and withdraw the last of holy water vials... before slamming both of them into the malphas' face.

The creatures hisses piteously, before breaking down into its constituent parts... leaving me kneeling in a pile of dead ravens. Yoko extends a hand to help me up, which I accept graciously.

In the lingering silence after, I look down at the whip coiled in my hand, then over to Yoko. It occurs to me that these two things were really all I needed; for a moment all thoughts about the legacy of the Belmonts, the family's uncertain future, demons storming across the land, _all of it_, are chased from my mind.

Yoko notices my gaze, and offers me a reassuring million watt smile.

My reverie is shattered by Hammer, shouting as he comes running up to us. And by running up to 'us,' I mean running up to _Yoko_. "Oh, Yoko, that was amazing!" he proclaims, his words coming fast.

Yoko again seems uncomfortable in his gaze. She glances over to me. "Oh, no, it really wasn't. I don't think I'd have stood a chance if it wasn't for Julius..." Her gaze lingers.

Hammer doesn't respond, but he has an oddly calculating look in his eyes. I watch as his eyes flick back and forth between Yoko and me several times. And then I suddenly realize that that calculating look in his expression is actually _jealousy. _

But... Jealous of what? I glance over at Yoko. He couldn't think Yoko and I were...

I almost laugh out loud. For an absurd second I even want to reassure him, to tell him that nothing will happen between Yoko and me because nothing _can _happen.

(Even _if_ this girl-child woman apparently makes me feel alive like I haven't in years.)

I grimace and shake my head. You're going soft-headed in your old age, Julius.

Aloud, "Come on," I encourage gruffly, some of my internal frustration bleeding through to my tone, "We're close to being out of this nightmare." Without waiting for their responses, I return to the ascent up the valley wall.

As the three of us crest the edge of the valley, there's a sudden rush of power from the castle behind us. I twist about to stare at it. "I think that's it," I say. The aura of darkness that had been enveloping the castle for the better part of the night seems to have suddenly punctured with little preamble.

(And on the verge of dawn breaking to boot. Convenient.)

Yoko glances back to the castle as well. "You mean...?"

I nod. "I think Soma won..." I say, and am surprised at the relief in my tone.

"Ha! I knew he could do it!" Hammer shouts exuberantly, pumping a fist towards the castle.

"Do you think they made it out okay? Soma and Arikado?" Yoko asks, her hands suddenly clasped to her chest.

"I'm not..." I begin. And that's when I notice, not too distant from where we stand and at the very top of the valley wall, two figures—one in black, the other in white.

I break into a satisfied grin. "Looks like they did."

Our reunion is short but sweet. Even the Hakuba girl manages to make another appearance, just in time for some light-hearted teasing. And it isn't before long that Arikado's governmental allies appear in unmarked black vans.

Before disappearing into the lead van in a swirl of leather overcoat, Arikado explains that his people will get us to where we want to go.

Soma and Mina pile into the second van, eager to return to something approximating a normal life back in Japan.

Hammer also hops in a van, evasively declaring his destination as "somewhere between here and Alaska"... But not before he— in possibly the most embarrassing way possible—declares that he would one day return for Yoko.

...Which leaves Yoko and I standing next to the last van.

Almost from the instant the vans showed up, Yoko has been on her cell phone, reporting in to the church. Her eyes flick over to me before she thanks the person on the other end and hangs up. "No rest for the wicked," she says brightly.

"Another case of the unexplained?" I ask.

She nods. "Some strange noises have been emanating from an abandoned monastery in Southern Romania, and people have been vanishing into the surrounding forest."

My expression turns considering. "Has the church sent any others to investigate?"

She folds her arms. "They sent in a cleansing team about a week ago, but they haven't heard back from them since."

My expression turns grim. That's never a good sign.

"The church is hoping you'll be willing to look into the matter, Julius," she continues after a moment. She has an odd expression on her face, as if she wants to ask something. "I know that you generally prefer to go alone on cases like these, but..." Her gaze drops to the ground. "I was wondering if you'd like a partner this time...?" she asks in a small voice, digging the toe of her boot into the dirt.

My decision is made in an instant. "Only if it's _you_ volunteering," I state.

The Belmont legacy, I decide, can wait for the time being: this old man can bear the Vampire Killer a little bit longer—provided he has the right support, of course...

Even if she'll never return those feelings.

Of course, as if to _completely_ confuse the issue, Yoko quickly moves in and pecks me once on the cheek. Before I have the chance to recover, she flashes me that million watt smile again and entwines her arm with mine. "Well, then... When do we leave, partner?" she asks, leading me to the van.

**END**

Author's Notes:

Yeah, I know, Julius and Yoko's relationship has next to zero romantic subtext. I DON'T CARE. This odd pairing entered my head practically at the second I first heard who was playable in Julius Mode in _Dawn of Sorrow_, and, well, here we are. (Does this technically count as a crack pairing...?)

Besides, who else is Yoko going to hook up with? She admits she has terrible luck meeting eligible bachelors in her line of work. Alucard is too busy being emo and distant. And Hammer? Well, besides the fact that Yoko barely knows he exists, let me put it this way: if _I _had to choose between Hammer and Julius, there'd really be no contest. Then again, I think I've got something of a man-crush on Julius... ANYWAY, Julius x Yoko, FTW.

Red-headed stranger in Julius' dream = lady from his past who he has forgotten. Sister, lover, mother? It's ambiguous.

And yes, clever readers will notice I may have cannibalized and remixed dialog from DoS' Julius Mode. And if you didn't, go back and play Julius Mode again, because Julius Mode is _awesome_.

Anyway, I'm just glad this is done—I thought this damn thing was going to be three pages, _maybe_ five and a thousand words _max_. Twenty pages and about 11,000 words later, and it's _finally_ done. Please read and review, and tell me if I've at least made this admittedly... unusual pairing plausible.


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